The Dawn of Fury by Compton Ralph

Author:Compton, Ralph
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PENGUIN group
Published: 2010-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

The bushwhacker had been forced to leave his horse some distance away, lest the animal nicker and reveal his presence. Now, forced to flee the withering fire from Nathan’s Winchester, the man’s headlong flight through brush and dead leaves allowed Nathan to follow at a comfortable trot. When Nathan emerged from the thicket, he spotted his quarry with a boot in the stirrup, preparing to mount a blue roan. Nathan fired twice, the second shot snatching away the rider’s hat.

“Step into that saddle,” Nathan shouted, “and I’ll shoot you out of it.”

There was no more bluff in Nathan Stone’s voice than there had been in his shooting. The surly bushwhacker backed away from the horse, his hands shoulder high. He was dressed like a cowboy, from flop hat to runover boots. There was a rifle in his saddle boot and a Colt on his right hip.

“With your thumb and finger, pull that pistol and drop it,” Nathan said.

That order was obeyed and Nathan advanced until he was behind the horse.

“Now,” said Nathan, “you walk back the way you just come, and you do it slow. I don’t usually shoot a man in the back, but I make exceptions for bushwhacking varmints like you.”

Slowly they made their way back to camp. Lambert had his shirt off, but had been unable to deal with the wound. The lead had struck him in the arm, just below his left shoulder. He eyed Nathan’s captive grimly before he spoke.

“You should have kept running, Jake. There’s a rope waiting for you in Fort Smith.”

“Fer bank robbery?” Jake bawled. “Wasn’t me shot that bank clerk.”

“You’ll have to convince the judge of that,” said Lambert.

“He’s got a horse over yonder beyond that thicket,” Nathan said. “I’ll go after it when this skunk’s been hogtied and I’ve seen to your wound.”

While Lambert kept his Colt handy, Nathan took strong rope and, standing Jake Yeager next to a pine, bound his wrists securely behind the tree.

“Ain’t you gonna tie my feet too?” Yeager asked.

“One more word from you,” said Nathan, “and I’ll do better than that. I’ll stuff a horse apple in your mouth.”

Finished with the outlaw, Nathan used the coffeepot to heat water, and when it was ready, he cleansed Lambert’s wound. Then, using part of an old shirt, he bound it as best he could.

“I don’t have any whiskey,” Nathan said. “You’ll need something to kill the infection, but we should reach Fort Smith before it becomes a problem.”

“I’m obliged,” said Lambert. “If you want to go ahead with that coffee, I can go fetch Jake’s horse.”

Nathan had built up the fire and had the coffee boiling when the lawman returned with Jake Yeager’s dun. Lambert had also recovered the outlaw’s Colt and had slipped it under his belt. Nathan fried bacon, and that, with hard biscuits and hot coffee, was their breakfast. Nathan fed Cotton Blossom what was left of the bacon.

“You’d feed a damn dog,” Yeager said bitterly, “an’ let me go without.”

“Jake,” said Lambert, “this dog—or any other—stands considerably taller than you.

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